


Showering with blind Undyne

by morefishplease



Series: Comfy Fish Stories [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Blindness, Cute, F/M, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 06:39:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10565727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morefishplease/pseuds/morefishplease
Summary: What it says in the title. Due to having originally been written and posted for a different site most of my stories' titles are just descriptions of the story, and I'm too lazy to make up meaningful titles for everything.





	

"I am seated in an office, surrounded by heads and bodies. My posture is consciously congruent to the shape of my hard chair. This is a cold room in University Administration, wood-walled, Remington-hung, double-windowed against the November heat, insulated from Administrative sounds by the reception area outside, at which Uncle Charles, Mr. deLint and I were lately received..."

 

Undyne stumbles in, slams the door against the wall. You jump, you're not afraid to admit it, because it's so sudden, and you drop your book, losing your spot. Thankfully, you had only just gotten past the introduction and a dozen pages of footnotes. You look up; she's tossed her gym bag to the side, and she's marching determinedly straight for the coffee table --

 

A loud crash and some cursing later, you've helped Undyne up. She keeps one hand clapped to her eye, her good eye, that is, and clings to your shoulder tightly with the other. "What happened?" you ask. She shakes her head; a faint flush of anger colors her cheeks.

"I was sparring at the gym and the guy caught me right in the eye,"

"Oh shit," you say. "Can you see at all?"

"No, idiot," she says, voice tight. She might be lashing out but you can tell there's more than that to it, she's panicking. "I can't see anything, my eye's too swollen."

There's one way to defuse the situation, and you take advantage of her blindness to dart in and throw your arms around her. She's still sweaty from the gym but you don't care. When she's just worked out her sweet, peppery smell takes on a sharper, stronger tinge, so that it's almost addicting. You get a faceful of hair and breathe it in deeply; Undyne smells like home to you now. You can feel her about to push you away but she masters herself, sighs, hugs you back. You stroke her ponytail, stroke her back, run your nails in a gentle line along her spine. "It's okay," you keep saying. "It's okay. I'll take care of you. It's okay."

You can feel her relax like a balloon with a leak, she sinks into your arms gratefully, and eventually she hugs you back, desperately even. You can feel her fingernails digging into your back and you murmur a quiet ouch that digs them back out again.

"Sorry," she sniffs, and she wipes her eyes quickly. You wisely choose not to comment. With her hand away from her eye now you get a clear glance at it and the sight makes you wince; it's a dark purple and swollen entirely shut.

"Jesus," you say, "that must have been a hell of a hit."

"It was," she mumbles, and pulls away from you. She's headed for a wall so you dart forward and catch her, point her ahead to the kitchen.

"Kitchen?" you ask. She nods.

"Do we have an ice pack or - ?"

It turns out you don't have an ice pack, but a bag of frozen peas will do, and soon she's holding it to her eye while you guide her to the couch. Her mouth is downcast in a small frown and you dart in and kiss her. She freezes again but kisses you back, her raspy tongue sliding over your teeth. When you pull away she punches you lightly on the shoulder. "You surprised me," she says.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Yes. No," she sighs. "I'm still angry."

"About the guy hitting you?"

"About not blocking the hit," she corrects you.

Undyne holds herself to such high standards. She'll be upset with herself over this for days - unless you distract her.

"Hey," you say. "Let's get you a shower."

She starts to resist but you've already gotten her up and you're walking her back to your room. "I think I've got it -" she says, but you open the door for her and lead her in. When you look back she's biting her lip, trying not to smile. In the bathroom, you turn the shower on and get undressed. When you look up she's just standing there, leaning against the counter. You take the peas and kiss her again, and she melts into you; when she leans in she notices your nakedness and she yelps into your mouth, pulls away quick. There's a string of saliva between your mouths that you break with a finger.

"I thought I was the one taking a shower," she says.

"I'm going to help," you tell her. She starts to protest but you explain: "I don't want you to slip and hit your head or something. You already ran into the coffee table," you remind her. "Just humor me, huh?"

She nods slowly. "I think you just want to see me naked," she growls, though a smile colors the growl warm like sunrise. You can't help but grin at her, even though she can't see it.

"Trust me," you say, "I'd never think of it."

"Yeah right," she laughs, slipping her tank top over her head. She just has her sports bra on now, and her abs are moist with stale sweat. The sight of her toned stomach makes you bite your lip and you get down on your knees in front of her and kiss her all the way down to her navel. She giggles and bats at you ineffectually but her face is splitting into the goofy smile you love so much. She takes her bra off and you roll your eyes up to stare at her breasts; they're full and round and gorgeous. Her nipples are starting to puff outward; you must be turning her on. She can feel you look upward and she covers them with her arm. "Hey," she says, mock-offended. "What are you staring at?"

"Nothing," you say, reaching upward and sliding her shorts and panties down. With her pants off the smell is even more intense and you kiss down to the top of her pubic hair before she grabs you and drags you up again. "What?" you ask.

"I'm cold," she murmurs. You get into the shower and pull her after you, relishing the way her skin feels. She gets slippery when her skin is wet, and the slickness feels interesting. You end up running your hands over her again and again. To Undyne it feels so nice that she just leans back biting her lip and lets you. It feels too good to even think of make a passive-aggressive comment about. You wash her gently, slipping your hands over her breasts and between her legs too quickly for her to complain or stop you, although each time you do she lets out a little sigh and grips you closer. She hasn't let go of your arm yet; she's holding onto it like a talisman. You think she just doesn't want to fall.

When you're done and you switch spots so she can rinse off, she grabs you and pulls you close; you can tell what she wants and you kiss her. She bites your lower lip, gently like you taught her, and you run your tongue over her teeth. They feel slick, like just after a teeth cleaning. After what feels like an eternity she groans a little and pulls away.

"I suppose," she says, "I should actually rinse off eventually." You shrug then, realizing she can't see, murmur an affirmative. You're too busy staring down at her ass to really pay attention.

Eventually the manifold joys of the shower must end, and she throws her hair up, wraps it in a towel with your help, and then you bring her a fresh t-shirt and pair of panties. You cuddle in bed for a few hours before Undyne starts yawning, big barbarian yawps that expose all of her teeth and send gusts of air against your arm.

"Hey," she says. You look over and see that she's cracked her eye open a tiny sliver.

"Yeah?"

"You're pretty," she says, as she rolls over and wraps her arms around yours, curling up to get as close to you as she can. You stroke her hair and down her back and slowly her breathing steadies and she falls asleep. You fall asleep too, eventually, with the feeling of her chest and breasts rising and falling along your arm lulling you into it.

 

▪ ▪ ▪

 

In the middle of the night, while you're asleep, she will get up and creep out of bed and into the bathroom. She'll pour herself a glass of water and drink it greedily; poke gingerly at her black eye, and wince at herself. She'll think about you and smile. She'll go to the bathroom and then come out and crawl back into bed. She'll wick your hair back from your face and stare at you, biting her lip, and then brush her lips against your cheek so lightly you wouldn't have even noticed it if you'd have been awake. She'll lean in and whisper in your ear that she loves you and, after a pause, that she wouldn't know what to do without you.

 

When you wake up she'll still be curled up against your arm and it will be like nothing had ever happened.

**Author's Note:**

> I found this story particularly fun to write since I had to deal with Undyne's reactions to being vulnerable, which is an interesting topic with any character, but particularly one whose personality is so based on being fearless, like Undyne. I think I did a decent job of conveying that wounded-animal sense of hesitation and mistrust, but still showcasing the depth of the relationship between Undyne and the reader (who, it should be added, is just some generic nice guy to make the story work, as I think this was a request).


End file.
